


I Shall Fall

by windfallswest



Series: Olin/Lands [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Last of The Jedi Series - Jude Watson
Genre: Developing Relationship, Family Dinners, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 14:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18181625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: He would have to be simply a man. Ferus had known that since he left the temple; but it was still a struggle to truly understand what that meant, day by day, hour by hour, as he slowly built a new life.





	I Shall Fall

Dreaming was new. Ferus had never been prone to Force-visions, conscious or unconscious, and absent those, Jedi did not dream. 

It had started a couple of months ago, just before he'd come to Bellassa. At first, Ferus had been alarmed and disoriented; but they were easier to handle once he figured out what was happening.

This was...something different.

Warm and pleasantly foggy, he felt Roan touching him. His hands slid up the bare skin of Ferus' sides, over his stomach, down his back. They were large, with a way of lingering on Ferus' anatomy as though his skin had the tactile allure of plush shimmersilk velvet. 

Ferus threw his head back, a moan resonating through his chest and throat, because Roan's hands were everywhere. He cupped the back of Ferus' neck and stroked his cheek. Up and down the flexing muscles of his thighs. Fingers brushing his lips. Tracing the gold streak in his hair. Intimately palming the firm muscles of his posterior.

Ferus' hips jerked instinctively in response; he came awake abruptly with the movement. Shifting against his sleep clothes and the sheets, he realised his body was aroused.

At the temple, they'd all been taught that autoeroticism was a part of self-care, at least for sexually reproducing species, especially during adolescence. Eventually, as their connexion to the Force grew, they would gain better control of their bodies, but hormonal surges were only to be expected. 

Self-control had never been a problem for Ferus, though. It had been almost a year since he'd needed to masturbate. He'd always viewed it as removing a distraction and scrupulously avoided attaching imagery to the activity. 

Now, though. Thoughts of Roan flooded his mind. Impressions of a phantom touch left over from his dream. And more, feelings of desire.   
Ferus wanted Roan. Not just his companionship, his open heart and easy laughter; but also his body. They had gone from holding hands to closer embraces, and now kisses that increasingly drove everything else from Ferus' mind. Sometimes Roan's hands would slip up under his shirt, and Ferus was shocked by how much he wanted to touch him back. 

Ferus didn't realise he was touching himself until the shock of orgasm hit him. Ingrained habit kept him from crying out as his body jerked and shuddered through something that felt nothing like release. 

Afterwards, Ferus lay staring up at the shadowed ceiling of his rented hostel room, head spinning. He was a mess; he should clean up. 

Gingerly, Ferus avoided touching anything with his sticky hand until he could clean it. He grimaced at the state of his underwear as he stripped and put his sweaty sleep clothes in the laundry, then dialled the intensity on the sonic shower up all the way and hit the activation button.

Ferus rested his forehead against the wall of the tiny cubicle, overwhelmed by a powerful, physical awareness of the absence of Roan's arms around him. Maybe the vibrations would shake his neurones back into alignment.

He had to have dinner with Roan's family today. Family meals on Bellassa were an intensive social ritual; maybe the demands of tracking the complex network of names, conversations, and relationships would help drive out the physical distractions of Roan's presence. Ferus wasn't hopeful, though. He was pretty sure he would have to face up to this growing physical attraction sometime soon, but family dinner was hardly the place. 

There was no question of going back to sleep. Ferus checked the chrono; plenty of time for a run. 

He held himself to a reasonable pace as he criss-crossed the sleepy neighbourhood streets. The spaceport was out on the edge of this district, and a sluggish flow of activity passed through round-the-clock establishments and utilities. 

Ferus found himself down by Sabaigrass Lake Park just as it opened, with the first light of dawn creeping into the sky. He began the old flow exercises to cool down out of ingrained habit, but he refused to reach for the Force. The centred calm it had given him had been the foundation of his life, and Ferus still didn't know who he was without it. But when he had opened himself to the Force on Coruscant, he had been left only with the certainty that that was no longer his place. He was not meant to walk the path of a Jedi.

Nevertheless, the exercise helped Ferus purge most of the lingering tension from his body and clear his jumbled thoughts. He took a more direct route back to the hostel, where he washed and changed again before heading out to open up the shop. 

It was just him and Cerri there today. _Thank the Force._ The last thing Ferus wanted to deal with right now were Manx's deceptively insightful personal questions. 

Although they usually did a brisk trade on weekend mornings, like a lot of non-essential services, the shop would close in the afternoon. Sometimes Manx or Aya would keep it open if there was an order to fill, but Ferus hadn't yet had any trouble getting the time off, despite the fact it wasn't even his family. 

Ferus rushed through a change of clothes back in his hostel room. He checked his hands one last time to make sure the sonic shower had dislodged all the dirt from his nails, then gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror; presentable. Bellassan tunics and trousers were cut differently from Jedi garb, but he found them more comfortable than spacer gear. 

Ferus left his blaster where it was, in a drawer in the bedside stand. It almost didn't feel strange to be walking around unarmed. Ussa was as safe as anyplace in the galaxy, and moreso than most. But Ferus still couldn't entirely shake the uneasy feeling that he was going out unprepared for a mission. _It's not a mission, just a meal._

Roan's petition to weasel out of helping set up so he could come late with Ferus had been summarily rejected. _Nagivating Ussa is hardly hyperjump math, and you manage that well enough,_ Ferus chided himself, stepping carefully onto a crowded water bus. He didn't _need_ Roan to hold his hand. It was just...nice.

Travellers with luggage were often wary of the low-sided craft; but once you knew the routes, they proved a convenient alternative to the often circuitous streets of the sprawling city, zipping along the maze of canals and cutting directly across the lakes themselves as repulsor-powered aircars couldn't. Not to mention the cooling spray misting around them in the summer heat.

So the open curiosity Roan's family exhibited towards him wasn't entirely comfortable. They were also unintimidated by his abandoned Jedi powers, something Ferus had learned not to take for granted. Ferus thought of the children pulling him into their games. And as aggravating as it was, the teasing of Roan's siblings and cousins was...familiar, in a way he wasn't used to. Even among his peers in the temple, there had always been that little extra distance. If it had been lonely sometimes, well, that was the lot of a Jedi. And one was never truly alone when there was the Force. 

Ferus cut short that line of thought as the craft paused, then leapt into motion again, taking a course that arced through the northeast section of the Bluestone Lake district along its main boulevard. He'd have to catch another when they reached the park-like central Commons to take him the rest of the way to his destination in Fifth Lake on the other side of the city. 

_No stress,_ he admonished himself as he pressed the chime beside Roan's second cousin's door. There came a sound of thumping and muffled voices from inside, and then the door opened to reveal Roan, slightly out of breath, with a handful of his older cousins crowded up behind him.

"It's not even your house, you know," one of them was saying.

"Well, it's not your house, either," Roan cast back over his shoulder. Already flushed, his face brightened when he saw Ferus standing there. "About time you showed up. Come on in and rescue me from these slobs."

Ignoring the chorus of objections elicited by that remark, he clapped Ferus on both shoulders, the gesture now habit between them. A shiver ran through his stomach at the touch of Roan's hands. Returning the grip, Ferus felt an impulse to lean in and follow up with a kiss. A much longer kiss than was appropriate for the front door with half Roan's family watching.

Roan looked into his eyes, and Ferus was certain Roan knew exactly what he was thinking. 

It was going to be a long day. 

The house of the relative hosting today's gathering was nowhere Ferus had been before. It was across town from the flower shop, on the other side of the Commons in the Fifth Lake district. The place evidently belonged not to the cousin whose wife was on furlough, but to her sister. Seeing the number of people just in the front parlour, Ferus imagined size had been a deciding factor. Roan's parents' place was comfortably large, but mainly as a byproduct of needing space for four children and their parents. 

This one sprawled more extravagantly. The ground floor was taken up by a few large, open rooms. A comfortably furnished front parlour and the dining room, both currently overflowing with what he assumed were Roan's relations, seemed to account for most of it, with the kitchen visible in glimpses through a wide, scalloped archway on one side and an outside patio opening off the other. 

Roan's cousins pulled them both inside, into a welter of noise and conversation. Automatically, Ferus began sorting faces and names. Roan had a dozen aunts and uncles, by blood and marriage, and twice that many cousins, but not all of them lived in Ussa, and not everybody showed up at the same place every week. Ferus recognised some faces from previous gatherings, including most of the cousins now chivvying them into the front parlour; but he'd never met their current host or the guests of honour. 

Roan made an attempt to sneak away with Ferus to get some drinks and maybe some privacy. They were thwarted when his cousins immediately shuttled them back out a side door, where a refreshment table had been set up. Ferus spotted Roan's brother Durga sitting in the shade with a mixed group of age-mates, but Payam, the other twin, had probably been roped into helping in the kitchen.

"Hey, look who I found," Mehr, who was either Roan's cousin or his second cousin, called to a group of children playing in the yard. He clapped Ferus on the back and pushed him forward into the onrushing swarm.

"Ferus!" A girl of about seven seized the hand not already claimed by Roan and began towing him out into the yard. 

"Hasu says you're a Jedi!" a less familiar child declared. 

Ferus tried to suppress a wince. "Well, I—"

"Have you been to space?"

"Come play four corners with us!" Hasu, now using both hands to pull at him, urged. 

"My aunt goes to space a lot!"

Roan's hand slipped from his grasp as he was dragged inexorably away. Mehr handed Roan a sherbet fruit drink to stop him from following.

"I promised Mahin I'd give you a hard time," Ferus heard him say, smiling sunnily. Roan returned him a sour look. 

Ferus, slightly bemused by this enthusiastic reception, allowed himself to be drawn into the children's games. As energetic as Temple younglings, they didn't have quite the same discipline or coordination. There were familiar faces here, too—Hasu, who had to know everything about everything; Resha, who didn't like doing things just because she'd been told; Nitin, who didn't want to get caught, but didn't want to tag anyone, either. 

"Hey, no fair!" Arjun objected when Hasu pushed him so she could steal his corner. 

Arjun shoved back, and Resha tagged both of them. Ferus jumped in to break up the incipient shoving match. As was frequently the case in his experience, the combatants immediately united to attack the mediator. Ferus' defence was hampered by not wanting to cause the children harm. 

"This isn't the best way to resolve your differences," he felt compelled to point out when they finally brought him down, staring up into the cloud-dotted sky. 

Arjun leaned in to peer at his face from his position solidly atop Ferus' midriff. "Hasu and Nitin say you tell funny stories."

 

And that was how Ferus found himself trying to explain the meaning of _centimetre time metre gem_ to the group of confused children. Someone, a woman he didn't recognise, had also stopped to listen, hanging a couple metres back with her head on one side. Probably from the other side of the family, or maybe somebody's wife keeping an eye on her offspring.

One of Roan's older cousins who definitely had a child in the group drifted over. He greeted the woman with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before announcing that the meal was ready. _Rescue at last._

Ferus had found himself bullied into storytelling before; the problem was, the only children's stories he knew were the ones he'd learned in the temple crèche. He'd discovered that the Bellassan youngsters tended to respond rather differently than Jedi younglings. Apparently this one was baffling instead of funny. 

After helping herd the children to a low table that had been set up under one end of the pergola, where more parental minders took charge of them, Ferus was finally free to try and locate Roan again. But the unfamiliar woman who'd been listening along with the children cornered him before he had a chance to do more than look around. 

She didn't have the tall, broad bone structure of the Lands side of the family, who were heavily represented here, or the curly green or blue hair that marked Enna's relatives. Hers was a rusty orange with bronze glints that stood out brightly against her darker skin tone. Tiered pearl earrings nearly brushed her shoulders, and the common engraved clip pierced the left nostril of a slightly aquiline nose. 

"Here, drink this; you must be parched." She handed Ferus a glass of seasoned citrus extract. "Pramud Dev; pleased to meet you."

"Oh," Ferus said, enlightened. His guess had been partially right. Pramud was the guest of honour, a lieutenant in the Republic Navy home to visit her wife, Roan's second cousin, on leave. "Thank you. Ferus Olin; Cauvery's cousin Roan invited me, but I got sidetracked before we had a chance for introductions."

"I thought you might be Roan's Jedi when I heard you trying to explain metaphysics to that band of little hooligans." 

Ferus took a sip from the glass in his hand to conceal his discomfort. "I'm more of a florist these days." 

"We'll have to let Aeny know; you can do her next party." Pramud threaded her arm familiarly through his, guiding him towards the open fusionglass doors of the house. "I'm sure Roan will be missing you. Mahin said I should give you two a hard time—"

Of course she had. 

"—but Mahin should be careful asking for things she doesn't want coming back around on her. You know I look in on her for the family—Roan, too, when he was there—whenever we're through the Corellian system. She's not that bad, really; it's just her sense of humour. Actually, she's studying galactic history." 

"So you know Roan pretty well, too." 

"Sure; he's a good kid," Pramud said. "The four of us will have to go out for dinner sometime while I'm here."

Before Ferus could formulate an answer to that, a familiar voice hailed them from across the bustling dining room, near the even busier kitchen. "Ferus!"

Pramud steered them over to the sink where he could wash his hands while Roan, supplied with ample commentary on his performance by a couple nearby relatives, deposited a serving dish on the already-crowded main table. He ducked through a line of similarly-laden family members with enviable ease. Payam stuck their tongue out at him, but it didn't seem to register. 

"You always were my favourite," Roan told Pramud, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Hi, Ferus."

"Remember that when the Festival of Lights comes around," Pramud told him. 

"Prammu! I've been looking for you everywhere."

Pramud exchanged a quick kiss with the woman who followed on Roan's heels, presumably her wife Cauvery. "I know; usually it's you hiding at family gatherings."

Cauvery made a face. 

"But I found Roan's Jedi," Pramud continued. Roan grimaced apologetically, and Ferus squeezed his hand. "Cauvery, this is Ferus Olin. He tells me he's a florist now."

"We should tell Aeny."

"That's what I said," Pramud told her. 

Cauvery smiled at Ferus and offered her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you; thanks for coming."

Cauvery's grip was firm. Under the intricate design that stained the skin, her hand was callused with work. Her nails were trimmed short but still carefully manicured, and her clothes and makeup were impeccable. 

"It's my pleasure," Ferus replied. 

"I wish we had more time to talk, but I'll be stuck playing hostess for a while," Cauvery apologised. "Someone's got to keep things going while everyone else is focussing on our guest of honour."

"I've already invited them to dinner," Pramud told her.

"You have?" Roan asked.

"Good thinking," Cauvery approved. "Roan, you two should grab places outside before you're stuck in here with us and the old fogies." 

It was Roan's turn to make a face. "I don't know; Mahin seems to have gotten to all our cousins somehow, the mynock." 

"Go find some of mine, then," Pramud suggested practically. "And if you think up some suitable revenge before I ship out again, let me know and I'll put it into action next time we stop over at Corellia."

Roan's expression grew briefly wistful. "I'll get back to you on that."

"Here, as long as you're going that way, take these out with you," Cauvery added, twisting to grab a pair of platters piled high with flat and fried breads off the kitchen counter and handing one to each of them. "Careful not to spill the sauce. And make sure you get some of Pramud's dumplings." 

People were indeed settling around the tables. Hands reached up to help them place their assigned dishes on the crowded surface. Ferus cast a glance along the benches, looking for any free seats. He suddenly realised he recognised fewer of the faces than he'd thought. 

"There's room here." 

Someone reached out and tugged at his wrist. Ferus smiled in relief to see Payam, with an empty space between them and Mehr. Roan elbowed him genially out of the way so he could squeeze in next to Ferus. 

Ferus was distracted for a moment by the warm pressure of Roan's body against his. He tried not to think of the dream that had awoken him that morning, but an almost electric charge buzzed through him at the contact. 

"Sorry," he apologised. 

"If you want any of these, speak now," Payam repeated, holding his plate. "They always go fast."

"Thanks," Ferus said. 

"Don't forget the sauce," Mehr reminded her. "Pramud's special recipe; we only get it maybe twice a year." 

"So I hear." Ferus watched as Payam ladled the accompanying sauce onto his plate before passing back. He noticed that both Roan and Mehr were more sparing with it in their turn. Maybe they were trying to make it last?

_Or maybe not._ Ferus intercepted a less than subtle look passed between Payam and Mehr. 

Catching Roan's eye, he lifted his eyebrows fractionally. The smile Roan gave him in response was little more than a conspiratorial quirking of his lips. 

Since everyone on this end of the table was watching him, Ferus picked up the fried dumpling and dipped one corner in the thick, chunky sauce. He took a bite, chewed it carefully, and swallowed. They were common food here, pouches of dough stuffed to bursting with a seasoned mixture of root vegetables, fresh soft cheese, and chopped vegetables. These were studded with chunks of poivron, with more in the chutney.

Roan cracked first. He burst out laughing at the disappointed expression on Mehr's face. About to take another bite, Ferus made the mistake of catching his eye and felt an answering grin tugging at his mouth. 

"Kashyyyk spirit poivrons?" Ferus wiped the corners of his watering eyes carefully with his left hand. 

Roan nodded. "She gets them off-planet."

"You knew!" Payam accused Roan. 

"Well, that's what you get for trying to put one over on a galactic traveller," Roan told them loftily. 

"You should know," Ferus added, taking another bite. All those years of diplomatic training had taught him when to keep a straight face even though his sinuses were on fire. It wasn't in an unpleasant way, though.

Mehr barked a laugh. "Ha!" 

Roan shot him a dirty look. "Whose side are you on?"

Ferus, busy chewing, felt he was excused from responding. 

Discussion at their table was animated. As predicted, the elders reserved the privilege of eating in the climate-controlled dining room, relegating their younger relatives to the hot and humid outdoors. A group of parents clustered at one end, near the smaller children's table. 

The vine-covered pergola overhead provided only partial shade from the noonday sun. Seasoned citrus extract and blue buttermilk concoctions were consumed by the pitcher. Cauvery and her sister, whose house it was, were in and out bringing refills and fresh platters at intervals, but when the jug of blue yoghurt infused with ground dried poivron in front of them next ran empty, Ferus volunteered to go inside and replenish it. 

He took the opportunity to visit the refresher. Exiting, he found Roan waiting outside. 

"All yours—" he started to say, but instead of moving past him to the door, Roan caught his hand and drew him in. 

Ferus realised they were alone in the hallway. Abruptly, his earlier longing returned in full force. He stepped in close, fingers brushing Roan's cheek. 

Roan tilted his head into the touch, angling for a kiss. He'd had his hand on Ferus' knee under the table for half the afternoon, as Ferus' composure had grown increasingly strained. 

It was Ferus who backed Roan into the wall, coaxing Roan's mouth open so he could lick inside. Roan's hands drifted to his back and down to his waist. Ferus made a helpless noise when they started to inch up under his tunic. He broke away, panting, plastering himself against Roan. 

Roan tightened his arms around Ferus and let him bury his face in his neck. That blasted dream invaded his consciousness again with the reality of Roan's touch on his skin. 

"I've been wanting to do that all day," Roan sighed into his ear. "Do you think they'll miss us if we don't go back out?"

"There _are_ an awful lot of people out there." Ferus lingered for an indulgent moment longer before taking half a step back. He was unable to resist stealing another kiss. And another, and another... He devoured Roan's mouth as though they hadn't been eating all afternoon. 

"We should really go," Ferus said, but didn't. 

There was a sound of loud, thumping footsteps and children's voices approaching from the direction of the kitchen. Ferus sprang back guiltily. Roan blinked his eyes open, less quick to disengage, looking dazed and tempting in ways Ferus could never have conceived as an aspiring Jedi. 

Three children came racing around the corner, giggling and jostling. They skidded to a hasty stop when they saw Ferus and Roan, not quite soon enough. Hasu, the frontrunner, bumped into Ferus' legs. 

"What are you doing back here?" she asked, face turned up to him in innocent curiosity. 

Ferus stared back down at her helplessly, the blood rushing to his face. Roan, still leaning against the wall, let out with his easy, infectious laugh. 

His hand landed on Ferus' shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. Gently, Roan separated Hasu from her mynock-like clutch and chivvied her back towards her companions. "Never mind. You three just be careful not to make a mess in your aunt's house, okay?"

"We're not _babies_ ," scoffed Resha, who was also in the group. 

Roan reached out to tousle her hair, and she ducked away. Mirroring the face she made at him, he towed Ferus back out into the kitchen. 

"I wonder if Mehr and Zinat are done arguing about that hoverball match yet," Roan sighed. "It's only been four years. Maybe I should have stayed on in Corellia for a post-graduate degree." 

"I'm sure there's room for you at the children's table."

"Boot _them_ back to the children's table is what we should do." Roan paused in cracking open the conservateur to catch him around the waist and draw him in. "I don't know; you're pretty popular over there. Maybe I don't want to share your attention." 

Roan pulled ingredients out of the conservateur, and Ferus watched with a degree of scepticism as he added citrus extract to some kind of syrup and poured the concoction over pulverised ice. Ultimately, though, there was nothing to set on fire, so it was probably all right. 

Returning outside, their fresh pitchers were greeted with enthusiasm and they found new seats. This was larger than the other family dinners Ferus had been to, but it shared the same kind of organic flow as people migrated between conversations, visiting as much as eating. 

As the sun dipped toward the horizon and the oppressive heat eased, Roan's brother Durga adjusted the stereo that had been playing instrumental music in the background all afternoon and started dancing out on the lawn. He taunted some of his cousins into joining him, although the loud complaints that the absent Mahin was the only one of his siblings with any sense of rhythm somehow failed to persuade Roan and Payam out of their seats. 

Pramud dragged her wife onto the grass. Cauvery hid her face in her hands, but after a few beats joined in an energetic if somewhat haphazard group dance with the youngsters all jumping around everyone's legs. 

Ferus looked on, feeling...not out of place, but a little bemused. Roan seemed content to sit and nibble at his fourth sweet pastry ball, but. 

"You don't dance?" Ferus asked. 

Roan glanced out at where even a number of his older relatives had joined in. His eyes slid back to Ferus, a slightly wary expression on his face. "I mean, do you want to?"

"I—well, I—"

Eyeing him, Roan grinned, his attitude seeming to reverse itself just like that. He stood, pulling Ferus to his feet. "Come on."

"No, we don't have to—"

Roan detoured to fiddle briefly with the player controls, not relinquishing his grip on Ferus' hand. Ferus held on, heart pounding unaccountably in his chest. 

"I just usually end up kicking somebody in the shins," Roan explained as they stepped off onto the grass. "Give it a minute." 

The music switched to a slower song. Roan stepped in so they were standing close enough to kiss. It was easy to slip his arms around his waist and move with him. Ferus was sure he could have learned the more complicated steps of one of the faster dances, but he was less certain about replicating the uninhibited joy with which Roan's family performed them. This was enough for now, a quiet connexion and Roan's smile. 

_Don't overthink it,_ Ferus schooled himself. It was hard not to question the desire he felt for Roan or the comfort he felt in his arms. But all his reasons for disquiet were a Jedi's reasons, and he was no Jedi now. 

He would have to be simply a man. He'd known that since he left the temple; but it was still a struggle to truly understand what that meant, day by day, hour by hour, as he slowly built a new life. 

In this hour, it meant Roan's arms around his neck and a cacophony of voices in the close air of dusk. The party was far from over; but for this brief moment, Ferus wasn't worried about the future, not even as far ahead as the next song. Greedily, he relished this precarious moment, on the cusp of he knew not what, balanced by Roan's steady hands.


End file.
